Whoever thought there’d be a MakeDisneyPay task force?
Philip Roth bio halted by publisher
HarperCollins to acquire HMH Trade
Phantom Tollbooth author Norton Juster has died
Dr. Seuss’s biographer on unpublishing six of his books
Recent Fiction

Silent Night, by Mary Liza Hartong

Winter was still holding onto spring like a child who refuses to leave her blanket at home.
Recent Poetry

Thirteen, by Rebecca Foust

I was thirteen, and there was a boy’s mouth / where my legs met.
Recent CNF

Thank You, Girls!, by Dvora Wolff Rabino

I’m culling needless items from kitchen, baths, and linen closets. I’m curating friendships. Now it’s your turn to go.
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At Least One Point

At Least One Point

Jim Tilley
My father never settled for clumsy solutions, / some leap of insight always required, / a transformation to an equivalent problem / easy to solve.
The Year Nobody Died

The Year Nobody Died

by David Jauss
It was March before anyone noticed. The first was Merlene Svensgard, whose husband Al had died on New Year’s Eve while he and Merlene were counting down the final seconds along with Dick Clark on TV.
Prophet of Furnaces and Dust

Prophet of Furnaces and Dust

by David Salner
After Vietnam, he came home to fight / with the dust, went wild with the injustice, / waged war with everyone and lost.
Secret Friends

Secret Friends

by Jessica Bell
I don’t know how to pray, / but I’ve seen them do it / on TV; kneeling by a bed / in nightgowns, hands woven / like secret friends.
Ink

Ink

by Erica Orloff
my grandmother has hate tattoos / carved into her arms / goose-stepping numbers marching / wrinkled, onion-paper flesh / human ash and cattle cars
The Ultimate

The Ultimate

by Robin Becker
I’m a line-sit for the Ultimate Roller Coaster. At first, I thought the job would be depressing, everyone standing in line waiting to ride-n-die, but what I do is altruistic.
Souls of Finland

Souls of Finland

by Günther Bedson
Like a tree your roots are gnarled and twisted / in the dampness of this earth / your yellow leaves swirling D-major triplets / dancing down to the square
The Burning Girl

The Burning Girl

by Davin Malasarn
She told him to lie on the floor. His father lit tall, yellow candles and placed them in cups of sand on the shrine. They covered him in a tablecloth that his aunt crocheted herself.
Creation

Creation

by Philip Appleman
On all the living walls / of this dim cave, / soot and ochre, acts of will, / come down to us to say: This is who we were.

Book du jour
by Lee Martin

Open Contests

by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review

Lascaux Vol 7